


Five Things Sybill Trelawney Never Predicted

by xylodemon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Dangerous Muse, F/M, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-16
Updated: 2004-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylodemon/pseuds/xylodemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things that never happened at Hogwarts, with the possible exception of number three, which is far more likely than the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things Sybill Trelawney Never Predicted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Circe_Tigana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Circe_Tigana/gifts).



> For [](http://circe_tigana.livejournal.com/profile)[**circe_tigana**](http://circe_tigana.livejournal.com/), with love.

**I. A Wizards Honor**

Severus tries to catch his breath as he runs but he cannot, his chest is painfully tight, and a sharp ache his creeping up his side. He stumbles, but Potter squeezes his wrist, never breaking his stride as he hauls Severus back to his feet, Quidditch-calloused fingers gripping hard enough to bruise

Too shocked and shaken to argue, Severus allows himself to be led, hoping Potter is taking him back to the castle, not leading him into another foul trick.

Horrible images flash through his mind-- the trunk of the Whomping Willow yawning open, a long dark corridor leading to some secret place, a wolf bathed in torchlight at the end of it, howling and snapping, tongue lolling as its nose catches Severus' scent.

Potter jerks him around a thicket of trees, then heads around the back of the castle. Severus starts to balk, he does not recall a door along this section of wall, but Potter only tightens his grip on Severus' wrist, delicate bones grinding together under the pressure of his fingers.

Severus starts to panic, thinking Potter means to send him headlong into a solid wall, but Potter pulls his wand with his free hand, shouts something Severus does not catch, and an archway appears. Potter hauls Severus around and tosses him through it, and it closes silently just as Potter steps inside.

Potter releases Severus harshly, sending him careening into a wall. When Severus catches his breath he sees that Potter is doubled over, wheezing and coughing as he tries desperately to take air.

"Lupin is a werewolf!" Severus shouts.

"Very good, Snivellus," Potter manages, after a pause. "You'll get top marks in Defense for being able to recognize one on sight."

Potter begins to wheeze again, and Severus realizes he is laughing.

"What is so funny?" Severus demands, trying to force a harsh edge to his shaky voice.

"You are," Potter says, smiling. "The look on your face, Snivellus, it was bloody priceless."

"Your friend is a werewolf, and he tried to eat me, and you think it is funny?" Severus shouts.

"He wouldn't have eaten you," Potter says quietly. "Sirius can keep him in hand."

"Black sent me to him to begin with!" Severus informed.

"Of course he did," Potter replies. "I told him too."

"You what?" Severus asks. "Why, then? Why send me off to be eaten by a werewolf, only to drag be away before he gets his snack?"

"I saved your life," Potter says, favoring Severus with another infuriating smile.

"You what?" Severus protests. "You what?"

"I saved your life," Potter says again, slower, like Severus is simple. "I saved your life. Now you owe me a debt."

Severus freezes, unable to wrap his head around what Potter is saying. A debt. A Wizards Debt. The one person he hates most in the world saves his life, and now he owes him a debt.

"I suppose I do," Severus mutters.

"I'll collect now, if you like," Potter says, taking a step towards him.

"What do you want?"

Potter pushes him back against the wall, and presses his mouth to his.

**II. It Will All Come Out in the Wash**

Minerva is sure she has never seen such a mess in all her years of teaching at Hogwarts. Gelatinous green slime is oozing off the walls, dripping slowly onto the floor like a foul parody of molasses. It seems to have no origin or source, it is simply bubbling out of the juncture of the ceiling and the wall, and there appears to be no spell causing it, and no way to stop it.

She knows, without a doubt, that only two things could create a disaster of this magnitude-- Peeves, and Sirius Black.

At the moment, Peeves is proclaiming his innocence to Dumbledore, the only person he will be honest with, and Sirius Black has wisely made himself scarce.

Minerva forces herself not to scream, and decides to let Dumbledore and Flitwick deal with the slime. Her footsteps squelch loudly as she starts for her rooms, each disgusting noise fueling her desire to tan Sirius Black's hide in ways Filch has never dreamed of.

The water from the shower is almost hot enough to scald, but it is no match for the layer of green grease coating her skin and clinging to her hair. She scrubs furiously, trying to battle the slime with a combination of soap and spells, but it is stubborn, and water and suds alike slide right off her skin and down the drain.

"You'll never get it off that way."

Minerva jumps and whirls around, and a quiet, strangled noise escapes her lips when she sees who it is.

Sirius Black, a very naked Sirius Black, is leaning against her shower wall with an absolutely insolent smirk on his face.

"Mr. Black!" She shouts, brandishing the bar of soap at him before gathering her wits enough to drop it and pull her wand. "This is utterly inappropriate."

"How so?" He asks, cocking his head to the side, his smile widening. "I am only trying to help."

"Help?" Minerva shrieks. "You made this mess to begin with!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he says, false innocence dripping from every word. He moves closer to her, and reaches out to take her hand. "But, I do know how to get it off of you."

"Is that so, Mr. Black?" She asks, raising an eyebrow, as he lifts her hand to his lips.

"It's edible," He says simply, and sucks her fingers into his mouth.

**III. Dirty Laundry is a Well-Kept Secret**

Harry Potter is so good to Dobby, so kind. Harry Potter is never harsh with Dobby, never wants Dobby to punish himself. Harry Potter comes to visit him, sneaking into the kitchen late and night, and thanks him sweetly for the food Dobby gives him.

Harry Potter gave Dobby socks for Christmas, and Harry Potter is the reason he is free.

The other house-elves are afraid Harry Potter will free them like he freed Dobby. They do not like to clean his room, they have heard Dobby's story, and think if they pick up one of Harry Potter's books there will be a sock or scarf inside.

So, Dobby cleans Harry Potter's room, every morning after Harry Potter goes to class. It is the messiest room in Gryffindor Tower, and Harry Potter's red-headed friend has the smelliest socks Dobby has ever had to wash, but Dobby does not mind, because it is Harry Potter's room.

Dobby also does not mind that the chubby, clumsy boy leaves his sheets sticky every night, or that the Irish boy keeps pictures of naked women under his pillow, because they share a room with Harry Potter, and Dobby likes to clean Harry Potter's room.

The best thing about Harry Potter's room is Harry Potter's trousers.

Harry Potter always leaves yesterday's trousers on the floor, in a heap right next to his bed. Dobby does not understand why the hero of the Wizarding World only owns two pairs of trousers, or why they are too big for Harry Potter's skinny body, but it is not Dobby's place to question.

And, this works out fine for Dobby, because every other morning, the pair of trousers on the floor is the pair Harry Potter was wearing the day he freed Dobby.

Dobby likes both pairs of trousers, but he likes the pair Harry Potter was wearing the day he freed Dobby the best. They feel soft against Dobby's skin when Dobby moves against them, Harry Potter's kindness touching him with each thrust.

Sometimes Dobby imagines Harry Potter is still wearing them, but not to often, because it is over to quickly when he does, and Dobby can hardly catch his breath because he shakes so hard.

Dobby always cleans the stains he leaves off the trousers before he folds them up and puts them in Harry Potter's trunk, because Dobby is free, but Dobby is still a house-elf, and house-elves are supposed to keep things clean.

**IV. Never Too Old**

The Order meeting looks like it means to carry on forever. Molly forces herself not to fidget, and tries to look like she is paying attention. She is tempted to interrupt the discussion and suggest they break for tea, but she doesn't bother, she doesn't think anyone will hear her over Snape's whining and Sirius' braying.

She can feel Albus watching her, twinkling blue eyes trailing over her skin. She feels a blush coming on, color creeping warmly over her cheeks, and hides her face behind a hand.

Arthur doesn't notice. Of course, she is fairly sure Arthur wouldn't notice if she spontaneously caught fire.

Albus is talking now, and she is grateful, not only because he managed to shut Sirius up, but because she can lose herself in Dumbledore's voice. Its light, whimsical tone is enchanting, she always feels like he is casting a spell over her when he speaks, even when it is the reciting something boring and mundane.

When Albus falls silent, her eyes snap open wide, and she takes a deep breath to gather her wits about her. She loudly makes her suggestion for tea, butting in before Snape or Sirius can get a word in.

She's only half aware that she interrupted Remus, because Albus is smiling at her, in a way that makes her feel like they are the only two people in the room.

Albus favors her with a nod, winking at her from behind half-moon spectacles and softly stroking his snowy beard. Molly blushes again, heat spreading across her face like wildfire, her stomach fluttering like she is a nervous second-year.

She often wonders of Arthur suspects, but she knows it is unlikely. He is too swamped at work and too preoccupied with Muggles to give her more than a passing notice-- he has been for years.

As she makes the tea, she overhears Arthur talking with Tonks, bragging that Ginny is the first female Weasley born in seven generations.

Molly smiles a secret smile that only Albus would understand, and when she hands Albus his tea, she whispers for him to meet her in the wine cellar.

**V. Good Things Come to Those Who Wait**

Neville hesitates outside the doorway to the Great Hall, nervousness gnawing at his stomach until he thinks he will retch. He paces back and forth, clutching Harry's Invisibility Cloak in his hands, winding the soft, worn fabric through his fingers as he tries to calm himself.

In the Great Hall, Dumbledore is speaking, a _Sonorus_ carrying his voice out into the corridor.

__...would like to thank Professor Lupin for returning this year to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts_. Pause. Applause. Pause. _Sadly, he will not be coming back next year....__

Neville's chest tightens at that. He has heard as much from Harry, that Professor Lupin will be at the Ministry next year, working with a team from the Department of Mysteries to bring Sirius back from beyond the veil, but it hurts more coming from Dumbledore, feels more final.

Cursing himself for a coward, he swirls the Invisibility Cloak around his body and opens the door just enough to squeeze through.

Neville does not look at the Staff Table as he strides up the center aisle, because he knows if he does, he will freeze, and tear from the Great Hall like Dementors are at his heels.

He wants to do it, he has wanted to do it since he first laid eyes on him in his third year, and if he is going to do it, he will have to do it now, because this is his last chance.

When the feast begins and everyone is distracted with their food, Neville lifts the corner of the tablecloth of the Staff Table and sneaks underneath. Its difficult work, crawling on his hands and knees while keeping the Invisibility Cloak wrapped around him, but he manages, forcing himself to go slow, so he does not give himself away with clumsiness and haste.

He draws Professor Lupin's zip down so softly it barely makes a sound, and Professor Lupin doesn't notice until it is too late. He jerks when Neville's hand wraps around him, and hisses softly between his teeth, but he doesn't cry out or pull away.

Neville leans forward, and buries a smile between his favorite professor's thighs.


End file.
